Journey
by Akatsuki Shin
Summary: [Short Story Compilation] My name is Yuuri Katsuki. I am a dime-a-dozen Japanese figure skater; I'm 24 years old. For more than half of my life, I have been trying to catch up to him. We have barely ever spoken, because I have always put him on such a high pedestal. But now that he's here, everyday my heart can't stop pounding because of how happy I am.
1. Dream

_*** A/N: This is a preview for my first Yuri! on Ice Fanbook_ _. I apologize in advance that I cannot post the full story so it will be fair for those who purchase the book._

 _Thank you very much for your understanding. ^^_

* * *

 _We've barely ever spoken…because I always put him on such a high pedestal._

 _And now that he's here, my heart can't stop pounding because of how happy I am._

* * *

The sound of shoes rapidly hitting against the pavement were muffled by the cries of seagulls and the roars of cars passing on the road. However, nothing seems to be able to hide the distress so clearly drawn on Yuuri's face. Ignoring the sweats dripping down his temples and the rough breathing he made with each step, he continued to dash along the seaside as fast as his legs could bring him.

" _Viktor…!_ "

His hand was gripping tight at his cell phone. Without slowing down his pace, he continued running until the front gate of his family's inn, _Yutopia Katsuki_ , was finally within sight. He didn't even think twice as he barged in through the front door. Frantically, his eyes started searching across the entire place filled with their guests and staffs.

"Yuuri, you're back. Welcome home."

A gentle, yet cheerful voice called out to him from further inside. It was his mother. Bringing a tray on her hands, she came over to where he was without even a speck of worry on her face. On the contrary, her plump cheeks only made her smile looked even brighter.

"Mom…"

"Sorry to make you run errands on your day off from practice," she said in her usual kind voice, "Thank you for delivering the food to Minako- _senpai_ 's place."

"That's okay…" Yuuri shook his head. However, that brief moment of rest was soon replaced by his earlier agitation all over again, "W-What about Viktor? Where is he now?"

"Vicchan already went back to his room awhile ago. He said he wants to rest for a bit."

Upon hearing that answer, the black-haired immediately dashed away to the place mentioned by his mother. He was in so much hurry that he nearly slipped and fell from the stairs, but eventually he reached the corridor where the said room was located just on his side. Without thinking, he opened the sliding door.

"Viktor!"

"Yuuri, welcome back~"

A cheerful voice, a cheerful smile. The first thing he saw when he came in was Viktor casually waving his hand at him, almost in the same rhythm as how Makkachin was wagging his tail. It was a sight too far from any of his expectations that Yuuri was petrified with his eyes wide opened in disbelief; his tongue felt as if it was frozen that he couldn't say a word.

"Why are you just standing there? Is something the matter?"

"B-But…" to those relaxed words, the black-haired couldn't help but stutter, "But Mari _Nee-chan_ said…you suddenly passed out in the living room…"

"Ahahaha! Well, I did feel somewhat dizzy back there. Before I knew it, I had been lying sprawled on the floor until your sister woke me up. It turned out that I catch a cold."

That nonchalant answer was the last straw for him. All the mounting anxieties and tensions simply burst out from his chest after all his effort to keep them in place. Before he knew it, Yuuri had dropped his phone to the floor, falling to his knees.

"Y-Yuuri? Yuuri?! What's wrong?"

"…I'm glad…" the black-haired trembled, "I… I thought…. I thought something bad happened to you. When I saw Nee-chan's message, I…"

It took almost everything he had to stop himself from breaking out into tears, but Yuuri didn't want to cry in front of this man. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and headed to Viktor's bedside. Makkachin, who had been lying next to his owner, shifted to the other side when he came as if trying to make some space.

"How are you feeling now, Viktor?"

"My head still feels a bit fuzzy. I have runny nose and my throat hurts a little," replied the older man, "But I don't think it's really that bad."

"Have you had your temperature checked?" Yuuri put his palm on the other's forehead, "You feel warm."

"I haven't... Now that you mention it, I do feel quite hot," Viktor let out a sigh, but soon turned at him with his usual smile, "Well, don't worry too much, Yuuri. I'll get better if I just sleep a little."

"…Viktor," the black-haired looked straight at him, "Tomorrow's practice… Let's postpone it until you get better."

"Huh?

"For now, I'll just take a quick shower and come back here as soon as possible. Have you eaten yet? Is porridge okay?"

"But, Yuuri, you don't have to—"

"Please…" he hung his head down, clutching at the bed sheet, "I know it's just a cold, but I… I really don't want anything bad to happen to you."

There was a brief silence between them. Yuuri knew Viktor was staring at him, but he didn't know what expression that man was wearing on his face. Was he being too pushy? Did Viktor feel irritated in some way? He was well aware that he probably shouldn't be panicking over a simple cold, but even if he knew this in his head, his shoulders were still shaking.

All of a sudden, however, he felt Viktor's hand lightly patting his head.

"Okay," he said calmly, "Then, I'll be in your care, Yuuri."

It took him by surprise at first, but when he looked up, he was met with Viktor's kind gaze directed at him. Finally, the black-haired smiled in relief.

"Yes. I'll do my best to nurse you back to health."

And he did exactly as he said. After cleaning himself from all dirt and sweat, he went ahead to make a bowl of porridge before returning to Viktor's room. Along with it, he also brought ice packs and medicine.

"Wow, I didn't know you can cook. Amazing, Yuuri!" said the Russian man upon seeing the steaming porridge; his eyes gleaming with amazement.

"W-Well, if it's just this much, I can do it…" the younger man slightly blushed, "But I'm sure it would be much more delicious if my Mom were the one who made it."

"Don't be shy. It looks good enough to me," Viktor gave him a wink, "Speaking of which, are you going to feed me that delicious-looking porridge?"

"What?"

"You said you will be nursing me, right? Come on, feed me, feed me~"

"O-Okay, okay, I'll do it. Please stop bouncing around."

Having no other choice, he took a spoonful of the steaming white pulp and gently blew on it a few times. Viktor's eyes were sparkling with great anticipation while watching him, and when he finally had a taste of the said porridge, the next thing he did was to happily yell " _Vkusno_!"

"Delicious! This is so delicious, Yuuri! Even if I have a cold, I can tell this is really good!"

"I'm glad that you like it," feeling a little bit of déjà vu, Yuuri couldn't help but smile, "After this, you should drink your medicine and have some sleep."

"Are you going to sleep here, too?"

"S-Since I promise to nurse you back to health… I'll just bring my blanket and sleep on the sofa."

"You can just sleep with me. The bed's big enough for the two of us and—"

All of a sudden, Viktor started coughing so badly that he almost threw up what he'd just eaten. He had been so cheerful that Yuuri was caught off guard at his sudden change of condition, and without thinking he rushed at the older man.

"V-Viktor? Viktor?! What happened?!"

"It's fine… It's fine, Yuuri," the Russian smiled despite the painful look on his face, "I just felt like coughing all of a sudden. There's nothing to worry abou— Ah, my nose is running again…"

"…Seriously…" to his words, the younger man quickly pulled some tissues and let him blew his nose into it. He had only realized this now, but even though Viktor was trying to act as he usually did, there was no denying that he looked vulnerable at this moment.

And it made him wonder, how had Viktor been taking care of himself up until this point?

"Viktor…" he said to the older man, trying to sound as calm as possible, "It's alright. You don't have to finish the porridge. For now, please just rest."

"But it was delicious…"

"If you like it that much, I can make it again for you tomorrow," Yuuri smiled, "Here, don't forget to take this."

He made Viktor drank the medicine and lied him down, putting an ice pack on his forehead. His face did seem a little red and he was also slightly wheezing. Perhaps… He had been feeling bad all along, but tried not to let it show. How ridiculous of him… But Yuuri couldn't say he didn't understand that feeling.

"…Can I ask you something, Viktor?" he said, to which the older man gave him a questioning look, "Back in Russia, what did you do when you get sick?"

"Well… I just took some medicine and sleep. If it seemed pretty bad, I would go to see the doctor," replied him, "Yakov would sometimes lecture me, too, about not taking good care of myself."

"What about food?"

"I can manage something simple. As long as I'm not hungry, I'll be fine," replied the Russian with his voice starting to sound hoarse. It was only something he did without thinking; while listening to what the other man was saying, Yuuri went ahead and fixed his blanket so Viktor would be safely tucked in it. Nevertheless, at that moment Viktor touched his hand.

"Yuuri… Tonight, you're sleeping here, right?"

"…Yes…"

"That's great…" for some reason, Viktor was smiling when he said this. He brought Yuuri's hand closer to his face, pressing the palm against his own cheek as if he wanted to sleep on it. And with his eyes now half-closed, the older man softly chuckled. "Your hand is cool. It feels nice…"

"Your face is just hot."

"Is that so?"

Viktor laughed again at his remark, but said no more. Just like that, he kept holding onto Yuuri's hand until his wheezing subsided. It took awhile, but his breathing grew calm little by little. And it was only after he was sure the other man was already sound asleep that Yuuri finally pulled his hand back carefully.

" _Like this, Viktor looks almost like a kid._ "

It was certainly a strange thing to say, considering that the man was clearly older than him. He had seen Viktor's sleeping face several times before, but only this time it felt different. Maybe he appeared more susceptible because he was ill, or it could be due to how their relationship had undergone a significant change in the past months.

After all, he would never have imagined that Viktor Nikiforov – the phenomenal skater who had broken the world's record multiple times, the living legend of Russia, and more importantly, the man whom he had been looking up to for more than ten years – would be here, living in his house, eating and sleeping right in front of him, showing him his vulnerable sides that probably no one in the whole world had ever seen.

He used to be someone so far away from his reach, but now…

"…Viktor, this isn't a dream, right? For you to be here…"

There was a small whimper cutting his train of thoughts. When he looked aside, his eyes were met with a pair of round black spheres, innocently staring at him. Makkachin had been quietly sitting on the other side of the bed all this time, and now, for some reason, the poodle shifted closer towards him, gently licking his hand.

"…Are you trying to tell me that this isn't a dream?" a smile rose to Yuuri's face, "You're right… If this were just a dream, you also wouldn't be here."

He saw Makkachin wagging his tail as he pet him playfully. Turning his sight towards Viktor again, Yuuri couldn't help but let out a small laugh, seeing how peaceful the older man was sleeping. Without thinking, he held out his hand to touch that beautiful face.

"… _No. I shouldn't do it_."

And yet he stopped midway.

For the second time, his thought was disrupted by a whimper made by the brown poodle beside him. He looked at those pair of black eyes, and for an unknown reason, he felt as if this fluffy fellow was questioning why he pulled his hand back. Somehow, Yuuri thought he was obligated to answer that.

"I can't do it, Makkachin," he let out a sigh, "It seems that there is still a part of me that is scared to be too close to him. I was afraid that…if I touch him, this dream will be over and I will be drawn back to reality."

He buried his face on his arms.

"Sorry… I'm such a coward, aren't I?"

Despite the mocking words he directed at himself, still Yuuri turned to see Viktor's sleeping face once more. No… This was definitely not a dream. Viktor was here, in his house, sleeping in front of him. Maybe he was scared because everything happened all too sudden, but if that were to be the case…

"… _I suppose it would be alright to take it slow…_ "

Hesitantly, he held out his hand and touched only the tips of the other man's fingers. It was just a tiny act, but before he knew it, a smile was drawn on his face. This was enough for now. He knew that the Viktor in front of him was real, and if he fell asleep looking at his face like this, perhaps eventually he would be able to accept and grow accustomed to all of this.

"…Get well soon, Viktor. I'm looking forward to our next practice."

And not long afterwards, he, too, fell asleep.

On that night, Yuuri thought he had the strangest, yet happiest dream he'd ever seen.

He dreamt that Viktor was watching him as he slept by the bedside, softly laughing with that charming smile of his. He felt those beautiful fingers brushing his hair lovingly, caressing the side of his face as if he was the most precious in the world. Carefully, Viktor pulled him up so that they would be lying side by side, and in a gentle voice, that man whispered into his ears.

"Good night, Yuuri."

Just now… Did Viktor kiss his forehead?

* * *

 _We have barely ever spoken, because all this time, I have always put him on such a high pedestal_

 _Now that he's here, my heart can't stop pounding because of how happy I am._

 _If I have one wish, it is so I could always eat my favorite food together with him everyday. For that, I will continue to give it my all, so that from now on I will keep and keep on winning._

 _That's why… "Please look only at me"._


	2. Old Friend

_*** A/N: This is a preview for my first Yuri! on Ice Fanbook._ _I apologize in advance that I cannot post the full story so it will be fair for those who purchase the book._

 _Thank you very much for your understanding. ^^_

* * *

 _During the five years I was away, I tried to ignore a lot of things by focusing on skating._

 _I wonder what I need…so I can keep skating on my own._

 _Even though so many people have helped me, even though I was blessed with a lot of support… Somehow, I was unable to take full advantage of it._

* * *

The wooden floor creaked slightly as Yuuri walked across the corridor. Some distance away behind, he could hear the cheerful chatters of the inn's visitors as they gathered in the lounge. The night was still young, and it was usually at this time of the day that they have the most guests. Although many of them were locals who had been acquainted with his family, he was still grateful nonetheless.

After all, they were people he had known since childhood, the people who had supported and cheered for him throughout his career.

 _"But we do get more visitors from other areas recently. I guess it's thanks to him."_

As he thought this, the black-haired headed to a room on his side. It wasn't by any means a large chamber. And as he opened the sliding door, a familiar sight soon welcomed his arrival.

"Good evening, Vicchan."

A treadmill on the left, a tall shelf on the right and an opened double door leading to yet another corridor. The enormous window on the side of the corridor led to an astonishing view of the inn's garden; the leaves painted in red and yellow. However, Yuuri's eyes were drawn only towards an altar placed in-between the shelves.

A picture of his younger self with a brown puppy was sitting there in a photo frame.

"I'm sorry I hadn't been here for awhile," he said while sitting in front the said altar, "I had been practicing for a championship. There were many things that I needed to work on, like completing the choreography for my new free skate program. To be honest, it was hard and exhausting, but…"

He looked up at the picture and smiled.

"I made it. Yesterday, I placed first in that championship."

Of course, Yuuri of all people understood very well that he would never get a respond no matter how long he talked. It was only a picture, and even if it wasn't, how could a dog answer him with anything else but barks and whimpers? And yet despite all of this common sense resonating in his mind, still he continued as if he was conversing with another person.

"I still have a long way to go to reach the final, but I think I'm already on the right path. For now, I'm waiting for official announcement in which event I will be assigned to in this season's Grand Prix series," he scratched the side of his face, making a sheepish smile, "Lots of skaters from all over the world will be there, too. Honestly, I wonder how I will fare against them… If it was Viktor, he'd definitely blast through everything and seize all gold medals as always. You've watched how awesome he was on TV, right?"

As he said this, Yuuri's face slightly darkened.

"…You know, Vicchan… Ever since Viktor starts to live here with us, I can't help but get reminded of you every day. He also has a poodle, see? The name's Makkachin, and he looks exactly the same as you, except he's bigger. When I first saw him, I was really surprised. I thought… I thought it was you…"

He took a deep breath and sighed.

"He's a friendly dog, that Makkachin. It doesn't take long for everyone to like him. Most of the times, he sleeps in Viktor's room, but occasionally he sleeps with me, too. If you were still here, I'm sure the two of you will be good friends."

Nodding to himself, the black-haired cast his eyes down.

"Yeah… I'm sure you two will get along just fine…"

It was at this moment that Yuuri suddenly heard rattling noises outside the room. Both confused and curious, he rose to his feet and headed for the door when it slid open on its own. Before he knew it, he had been struck by a mass of fluff until he toppled over and fell flat on his back.

"Woof!"

"M-Makkachin?! What are you do— V-V-V-V-Viktor?!"

He was completely at loss of words. While the big brown poodle was standing on top of him and licking his face, there stood by the door a familiar Russian man. He looked as surprised as him for a brief second, although the man's expression turned into one of guilt soon afterwards.

"Hey, Yuuri. Makkachin and I have been looking everywhere for you," with an awkward laugh, Viktor stepped into the room and helped him to get back up, "Are you okay?"

"H-How long have you been there?"

"…My bad. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you sounded so serious that I couldn't bring myself to interrupt," replied the silver-haired with an apologetic look, seemingly a genuine one this time, "But I don't see anyone else here. Who were you talking to?"

"I… I was just talking to myself…" Yuuri shook his head, but he quickly corrected himself upon seeing the other man casting him a look of disbelief, "I-I mean… My dog. It was my late dog."

"Your late dog?"

"…I know it sounds ridiculous…" the black-haired looked down, "But even if I know there's no way he could hear me, I just… I just thought that… Maybe I'd talk to him for a little bit."

"Hmm…" Viktor's face turned into one of wonder as he shifted his gaze towards the altar, "Ah, is this him? The puppy in the picture with you?"

"Yes, that's him," Yuuri nodded and flashed a subtle smile, "He was also a poodle."

"How cute! He looks exactly like Makkachin!" said the older man, clearly sparkling with excitement, "Say, Yuuri, what was his name?"

"…Viktor."

"Yes?"

"No, I mean…" Yuuri's face became red immediately, "His name…was Viktor."

There was silence. It was only for a brief moment, but he could feel Viktor – and even Makkachin – staring at him with such an indescribable look on their eyes that it was almost unbearable. He couldn't possibly see himself, but Yuuri was sure his face had turned red all the way to his hears.

"…So you named him after me," said the Russian man eventually, "Why?"

"B-Back then, Yuu-chan— I mean, Yuuko-san showed me an article about you in a magazine. It says there that you had a poodle. There was also a photo of you and your poodle, so… I just… I couldn't help myself."

"That was the reason you got exactly the same poodle as mine?"

"S-Sorry… It must sound very silly to you," the black-haired sighed, "Though, after awhile we all started calling him Vicchan. Oh, wait, my mother calls you that, too."

"Ahaha, why did you apologize? To think that you like me so much to get exactly the same kind of dog and named him after me, it's quite an honor," Viktor laughed nonchalantly and shifted closer, "By the way, I haven't heard you talking much about this Vicchan. Tell me, tell me."

"I… I'd rather not—"

"Eeh, why~?" pursing his lips, Viktor drew even closer, "As your coach, I need to know as much as possible about you, right?"

It was useless to refuse any further once Viktor already started acting like this. He would only stop once he obtained what he wanted and Yuuri knew that painfully well.

"There's… There's not much to tell…" shifting his gaze aside, the black-haired answered in a small voice, "I mean, the last time I saw Vicchan was about five years ago."

"Five years ago? So he had passed away for that long?"

"Oh, no. It's because I moved to a training facility in Detroit, and then I had to finish my study at college, as well," Yuuri shook his head and smiled bitterly, "I hoped I could've brought him with me. We still saw each other when I called my family through video call sometimes, but that was it. In the end, I… I couldn't even see him in his last moment."

"If you don't mind… When exactly did your dog pass away?"

"…December…" once again, the younger man cast his eyes down; his voice becoming smaller and smaller, "It was December last year…during the Sochi Grand Prix Final…"

As he said this, the black-haired squeezed his fingers together. Perhaps it wasn't the fact that Vicchan passed away that saddened him the most. Even though he had tried not to think about it, in his head he knew the poodle wouldn't live forever. After all, his friend was already an old dog.

But at the very least, he had wished he could've returned home happy and proud back then. Vicchan would be waiting at the front door with his family and friends, barking and wagging his tail the moment he showed up. And then he would show him the medal he won from the final. Or, even if he didn't win any medal, maybe he could've done something everyone could be proud of.

" _But not only did I come back empty handed, I also messed up so bad for the media to think it would be my last season. And above all, I… I wasn't able to see him one last time…_ "

"Yuuri."

Startled, the younger man was woken up from his inner thought. When he lifted his face, there was a pair of blue eyes gazing right into his. Viktor wasn't smiling or crying. He was just there, wearing an unreadable expression, with both arms opened wide.

"V…Viktor?"

"…You'd rather not?"

There was a tiny smile, one so small it could be easily missed. Viktor didn't say anything else. He only tilted his head ever so slightly with no signs of his usual pushiness. And despite the clear hesitation drawn on Yuuri's face at first, in the end, he reached out to the other man, letting himself fall into those opened arms.

"…Was Vicchan a good boy?"

"Yes…" the black-haired replied.

"Did you play a lot with him? For example, when you're running, did he also run with you?"

"Yes."

"I see…" Viktor smiled once more, stroking his hair while holding him closer. Yuuri didn't understand what this man was thinking. One time he could be so forceful when trying to get what he wanted, and other times he could be as silent as a clam.

But no matter.

Right now, he didn't need to know what was on his mind, nor did he need any words of consolation. Viktor being here with him was enough, and after holding back for so long on his own, he could finally let out all these feelings off his chest.

"…Already?" asked the silver-haired when the younger man finally separated himself, "I wouldn't mind if you still want to hug."

"It's alright," Yuuri shook his head, fixing his glasses, "I don't want to show you anymore of my weaknesses."

"You're not weak. Nobody thinks so, haven't I told you that?"

"Yeah…" said Yuuri with a smile, and for the first time since the other man stepped into this room, he looked at him straight in the eyes, "Viktor, I—"

"Woof!"

A small bark cut him off before he could finish his words. He had totally forgotten about it. When he was dwelling in memories of his late dog, he didn't remember that Makkachin was also there with them. And as if knowing that he had been neglected, the brown poodle whimpered while putting one of his paws on Yuuri's hand.

"I'm sorry…" ruffling his fluffy fur, Yuuri looked at the brown fellow with an apologetic smile, "I promise I won't ignore you again."

"Woof!"

And his words were answered with a happy, friendly bark. Yuuri couldn't help but laugh at such adorable sight, and yet at the same time it reminded him of something.

"Speaking of which, Viktor, you said you were searching for me, didn't you?" he asked.

"Ah, that's right," the older man appeared a little startled, "You're invited to attend a press conference before the Grand Prix, right? I thought we'd discuss about the theme for your programs this year."

"Is that so?" said the black-haired as he rose to his feet, "You're right. I should start preparing myself."

"Before that, Yuuri… I've thought about this before, but this is an altar, right? Do you use this to pray? How do the Japanese pray?"

"Well, yes… Something like that," the younger man replied in confusion, not understanding the purpose of such question, "You…put your hands together like this…"

"Like this?" Viktor clasped his hands.

"Yes, and then you say your prayers."

"Alright," the silver-haired turned to face the picture on the altar; his blue eyes gleaming with sincerity, "Nice to meet you. I'm Yuuri's coach, Viktor Nikiforov. The next time he comes here, Yuuri will bring back a gold medal from the Grand Prix Final. So, please don't worry, okay, Vicchan?"

"V-Viktor, what are you saying?!"

"Isn't that right, Yuuri?"

There was no hesitation in those clear blue eyes, and Viktor said it with as much confidence as how he then held out his hand towards him. Yuuri couldn't find any words to respond to such declaration, but for a reason even he himself didn't know, he found himself smiling.

"Yes," he said, reaching out to the hand presented in front of him, "Therefore, please wait just a little longer, Vicchan. This time, I won't disappoint you when I come back."

He could feel Viktor smiling upon hearing his answer, so he turned at the older man and returned his smile. At that moment an idea emerged into his mind.

"You know, Viktor…" he said while slightly averting his gaze, "I think…I already found my theme for this year…"

* * *

 _During the five years I was away, I tried to ignore so many things by focusing on skating._

 _A lot of times I've been wondering… What do I need so I can keep skating on my own?_

 _I've been helped by many people so far, but even though I was blessed with support, I was unable to take full advantage of it._

 _But ever since he appeared before me, the world I saw changed completely._

 _It isn't something that can be easily understood, but for the first time in my life, I finally found someone I want to hold on to…_


	3. Love

_*** A/N: This is a preview for my first Yuri! on Ice Fanbook._ _I apologize in advance that I cannot post the full story so it will be fair for those who purchase the book._

 _Thank you very much for your understanding. ^^_

* * *

 _People who long for his return will never be satisfied with me._

 _Likewise, everyone cheering for me wouldn't be happy with the way I am now._

 _If that is the case, I would rather be hated as the one who takes him away from this world._

* * *

An ordinary sight; a silent park bereft of crowds and noises.

It didn't necessarily mean there was not even a single visitor, but as the night grew late, what were left roaming around the vicinity were mostly passersby and street-food vendors; the later were seemingly prepared to close their business for the day anytime soon.

Amongst these few still inhabiting the park, Yuuri and Viktor were walking side by side under the glimmering street lights. It was right after the Cup of China was over, and even though they were supposed to return to the hotel with everyone else, Yuuri suggested that they went out for a walk all of a sudden – an unusually whimsical request to which the older man somehow agreed without thinking.

"So, why do you want to come here, Yuuri?" asked Viktor as they walked, "I thought you would be tired and want to sleep early. Is there something you want to do?"

"Umm, G-Guang Hong said the street vendors here sell delicious food. Since we're already leaving tomorrow, I thought…maybe we could try some while we're still in Beijing."

"What, so you're just hungry? You should've said so from the start."

Viktor laughed casually. With his face turning a little red, Yuuri could only respond with a small, embarrassed smile. But even then he immediately turned his face aside, as if not wanting the other man to see the expression he was making.

" _…That was a lie. I didn't come here to eat. I'm not even hungry._ "

This wasn't the first time he participated in an international competition. Despite the chains of losses he'd suffered last season, Yuuri had had enough experiences with performing in the Grand Prix series. Countless times already had he been wrecked so much by nervousness, switching between winning and losing although the later happened more often recently.

But none of those experiences equaled today.

"Yuuri, is something the matter?"

"Eh?" he lifted his face upon hearing his name being called, only to be met with Viktor's clear blue eyes staring at him, "Ah, s-sorry. It's nothing."

"Really?" the older man questioned him again, "Oh, I see someone selling crepes over there. Would you like to try one?"

"S-Sure..."

"Then, I'll go get it. Wait here, Yuuri."

Just like that, Viktor trotted towards the vendor's truck a small distance away. It was a strange thought, but Yuuri realized he hadn't seen Viktor's back for awhile since they would always walk next to each other. What a funny sight it was, considering that all this time he had spent more than half of his life chasing after this man's back. Before he knew it, a tiny smile rose to his face; his eyes quietly gazing at the Russian man with a glint of fondness.

" _I saw an unexpected side of Viktor today._ "

The small incident at the car park resurfaced into his mind. He'd gone through various states of nervousness before and today might be one of the worsts. After all, he was skating not only for himself, but also for the living legend who abruptly decided to be his coach. God knows what the public would say if he was unable to deliver a satisfying performance despite having a five-time gold medalist to teach him, making the said man to take a break from skating and robbing him from his fans for a whole year.

Still, the black-haired didn't think he would actually break out into tears. In the end, it did help him to feel better, yet Viktor's face at that moment really was indescribable.

" _He mustn't have expected that I would cry. Although… In the first place, I didn't plan on crying in front of him like that._ "

"Yuuri, what's wrong?"

All of a sudden, Viktor showed up in front of him, curiously peering into his face. It was enough to make Yuuri jumped in literal sense, but the older man smiled and offered him the food he had bought.

"Here you go. One Chinese crepe," said him.

"Huh? Only one?"

"If you still want more, I can go buy another ten."

"N-No, no, no! I mean, what about you?"

"I'm not that hungry, so I'm fine with trying only a few bites," Viktor shook his head, "Actually Yuuri, you're not hungry either, are you?"

The younger man was unable to come up with any answer at that sudden remark. As if knowing what he was thinking, Viktor shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"There must be something on your mind, otherwise you wouldn't go out of your way making an unusual request like this all of a sudden," he said, "Is it something about today? Or are you worried about the next event?"

"I'm… I'm not…"

"If it's about today, actually there is something I want to say, as well," said Viktor again, and he softly laughed upon seeing the bewildered look on the other's face, "Shall we talk about it as we walk? You also need to eat this crepe while it's still hot."

There was no physical contact, but Yuuri felt as if Viktor was giving him a light push on the back with his words. The both of them continued strolling further into the park. Nibbling and munching at the crepe, Yuuri could tell it was delicious but all the things spiraling in his mind prevented him from fully enjoying the meal.

" _Viktor is being too quiet_ ," he thought. The rigid silence grew more and more unbearable the longer they walked until the black-haired was unable to hold it any longer. Hesitantly, he held out the half-eaten food towards the other man.

"Yuuri?"

"W-Would you like to try it?" he stuttered while holding the food with both hands, "It's… It's really tasty, so…"

"What is it? I bought it because you said you want it, but if you're giving half to me, doesn't it look like an indirect kiss?"

"…?! That's not what I—"

"Well, that's fine. We already kissed anyway…" with that said, the Russian man laughed again. Disregarding the flustered face before him, he moved closer and took a bite. "Hmm… You're right, Yuuri. It's delicious."

"…Is that so?"

He felt so nervous at first, but seeing how Viktor casually chomped on the crepe like that, eventually his lips were drawn in a smile. There were still a few bites left. When he was about to put it into his mouth, suddenly Viktor held out his arms and hugged him tightly.

"V-Viktor?"

"Sorry, Yuuri," the older man whispered, "Back there, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry…"

The black-haired went silent. Was this the thing Viktor wanted to talk to him? Despite the smile he'd been showing on his face, had he been thinking about it this whole time?

"I was wondering what I could do to motivate you. If I said something like that, perhaps I could get you fired up somehow. I had no intention of making you feel like I have so little trust in you," Viktor slightly distanced himself and looked straight into the pair of brown eyes before him, "But in the end, you went out there and surpassed anything I could imagine. Yuuri, you're amazing! You really did great today."

"…Is that so…?"

Yuuri couldn't think of any other respond to those words, and before he knew it he'd looked down with a sheepish smile on his face. He was glad that he could surprise Viktor with his skating, and hopefully he could continue to do this from now on. When he was thinking about this, however, in the next moment he felt Viktor's hands on his cheeks. It was as if the older man was telling him to look up, and when Yuuri did so – for the second time today – all he saw was Viktor's face already a few centimeters away from his.

And their lips met.

"…You made that face, too, back there," Viktor chuckled upon seeing his reaction, "Only this time I bumped against your glasses. And it tastes a little like fried egg."

"B-But…why…?"

"You don't like it?"

"I-It's not like that!" Yuuri shook his head furiously when the other started pouting; his face turning bright red, "Just… That was… I…"

"Yuuri," Viktor called his name, "Why do you want to take a walk with me tonight?"

The Russian man was smiling, patiently waiting for him to answer. It wasn't a face saying that he could read his mind, nor that it was a face saying he was completely clueless about it either. Somehow, Yuuri had a feeling Viktor already had a guess of what he was thinking, but at the same time he waited until he heard it directly from Yuuri himself.

Strangely enough, it made the hesitation in his heart beginning to clear away.

"…If…we had gone back to the hotel…" the younger man said, "We would've packed up our things, gone to sleep. By the time we woke up, it would already be tomorrow, and before long, we'd be home. I just… Today, I just want to…spend a little bit more time with you, Viktor."

"But I'll be going home together with you, no?"

"I know. That's why, I… I think, I want today to last for a little longer…" he blushed and looked aside, "S-Sorry. I'm not making any sense now, aren't I?"

He didn't know how to put it into words. The fact that he and Viktor kissed, it didn't really dawn on him until the medals had been handed out, the press had interviewed them for the next event, until they were about to be on their way back to the hotel. Of course, Yuuri knew it was a kiss. But he was too taken aback at that moment to think about it. He was just happy that he could once again deliver the program he and Viktor made together, and before he knew it they had been lying there on the ice, and Viktor was looking at him with those gentle blue eyes of his.

If he went to sleep just like this, would it still feel as real as it did today when he woke up tomorrow?

"…Viktor?"

"You're right. It really is delicious," said the older man, casually chomping down and munching at the last bite of crepe still left in his hands, "Too bad the vendor's closing down right after I got this one. Do you think they also have this in Japan?"

"I guess…they do…probably…"

"What's with that face? Are you sad that I stole your food?" Viktor laughed at his vague answer, "It's getting pretty late. Shall we go back to the hotel?"

"…Right now?"

"Today must be tiring for you. I don't want you to get sick before the next event," replied the Russian man while gently caressing his cheek, "You did well today, Yuuri. As your coach, I'm very proud of you."

The younger man could only nod at those words. He was happy that Viktor praised him, but at the same time his heart slightly sank for some reason. So in the end, today would come to an end, after all…

"When we get back to the hotel later…" said Viktor again, "I will help you dry your hair after you take a bath."

"Huh?"

"After that, I'll put you to bed, tuck you under the blanket and lie down next to you. Then, we can hug until morning. Okay, Yuuri?"

"But…why?"

"You've done your best to show me your love," the older man lowered his gaze as he answered in a tender voice, "Now it's time for me to show you mine."

It wasn't an answer he expected he would hear. For a moment, Yuuri found himself taken by surprise that his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, for a reason even he himself didn't know, it filled his heart with so much warmth that he could only smile; the color of red beginning to paint his cheeks once again. Without thinking, he took a step forward and rested his face on the other's shoulder, right at the crook of his neck.

"…I've never seen you acting like this before," Viktor wrapped his arms around him, stroking his back, "Are you trying to tell me that you want to be spoiled?"

"…If it's not too much trouble…"

"Of course not. I would be happy to," for the last time today, the Russian man laughed softly. He cupped Yuuri's face in his hands, and once more, their lips met. Only this time, Yuuri also closed his eyes.

" _Viktor was right. It tastes a bit like egg, like Chinese crepe._ "

But he didn't plan to tell Viktor that. Hopefully, tonight he would have a good dream…

* * *

 _Those who wish for his return won't be happy with me/_

 _And those cheering for me won't be satisfied with the way I am now._

 _Therefore, I would rather be hated as the one who takes him away from this world._

 _I am the only one who knows his love. No matter what they say, I will make it so he can never be satisfied with anyone but me._


End file.
